The Centre and the Edge
by TeoBern
Summary: There is the huge circle, which spreads across the entire world. It's an imaginary circle. That, my friends, represents Atobe Keigo's social circle. There is this smaller circle, which spreads across the tennis courts of Hyotei. It represents Atobe's circle of friends. Right on the edge of that circle, is Yamamoto Hikari.
1. Chapter 1

A/N

Hi!:) If you have seen this fanfiction before, don't worry, I'm the same person.

Okay, that sounded better in my head... Still, my other account is on Wattpad, and I've posted this story there.

Short Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis, along with all of its characters. Only my OC, Yamamoto Hikari, belongs to me.

The Centre and the Edge

There are many things in this world which we don't understand. Well, we don't really understand them until we die. Things like, what do people feel when they die? Where do we go? DO we go upstairs or downstairs or do we just wander around?

I, for one, never understood those. But the things I usually question myself about aren't really as deep and insightful as those questions in particular.

What do I ask?

Let me give you a few examples. Why is Atobe Keigo so popular, despite being a huge narcissist? Why is he even so narcissistic? And why, why does he always have to flip his hair?

I mean, I wouldn't really mind it that much if he were a girl, since girls do that all the time. (I hair-flip regularly, too) But he's a man! Although, there's always the other option- that he's gay.

Atobe Keigo, heir to the Atobe Company. Insanely rich, but irritating at the same time. A huge narcissist who refers to himself as 'ore-sama', while getting other air-headed girls to call him Master, or 'Atobe-sama'. Also known as, person who's always the center of attention and will not tolerate being ignored.

AKA. My Seatmate.

Now, I'm not going to say that I hate him. Somebody else has already reserved that spot. But he's everything that I dislike- no, absolutely despise. However, the only reason why I have actually put up with him is because he actually likes something.

If you guessed that it was a girl, you're wrong. If you guess that it was his collection of phones, you are absolutely wrong. He has enough money to buy those ancient yet prized phones.

Why are ancient phones even so popular nowadays anyway?

Alright, back on track. If you guessed that it was a particular sport, you are wro- correct. Tennis.

The strange game where you hit this flouroscent-coloured ball with a racquet and utterly defeat someone. Personally, as much as I dislike anything which has to do with Atobe Keigo, when he's playing it, it actually looks pretty cool.

I am serious.

Not Sirius.

Well, welcome to my life.

Where I am unlucky enough to sit next to the center of attention.

FOURTEENTH FEBURARY, 2014. ATOBE KEIGO: AGE 16-17.

"Hikari-chan, can you please pass this over to Atobe-sama for me?"

"Hikari, give my last letter to Atobe! Tell him that I'm going to faint just by looking at him!"

"Get out of the way, brat! I've got to get this to my Atobe before anyone else!"

There you have it, the three types of fan girls which Atobe has.

First, the shy type. These are the ones I like the most, since they only ask me to give little tokens to him, like hand-made cookies and other little trinkets. Of course, most of the food goes to my stomach before I dump the rest onto my seatmate's table.

Secondly, the hopeless romantic. Not extremely annoying, but still irritating. Usually you just have to dump them out of the classroom when they faint.

Thirdly, the most annoying of them all. The rabid fan girls. They are the ones who make me want to pull my hair out. To the extreme. They push, they shove, they bite, they kick, and they punch. Extremely possessive and jealous, they're always the ones who try to take my seat when I have my medical certificate at hand.

Thank the Lord for medical certificates. At least I don't have to deal with all this for one day.

However, today is a special day. To others, it is a day of love, a day to spend in Paris. To me? It's more of my death-day. Like Headless Nick. I'm a mailman of sorts, since all the gifts have to pass through me to get to Atobe. Why? Mr. I'm-too-good-for-you doesn't want to take the trouble to receive all his gifts personally, so everything comes over to me while he escapes to his stupid morning training. Why can't they just put in on the table, you ask? **That annoying brat declared that he didn't want his perfect workspace to be ruined.**

"Ring…Ring…" Finally, first period's starting. Shoving all of the wrapped-up presents into a random sack which I prepared specially for this day, I turned and saluted my teacher before walking out of the classroom.

While dragging the stupid sack the entire way because it was just too heavy.

Why could I just escape lessons so easily, you ask? The regulars get to skip first period for morning practice, as long as they keep their grades up. Sensei decided that she didn't want me to be distracted by the huge amounts of food which were all passed to me, so she gave her permission for me to drag this stupid thing all the way to the courts.

My life officially sucks.

My sharp ears catch the sound of tennis balls hitting the ground, signaling that I was nearing the Death Zone.

"Bloody sack… Bloody Adobe… Bloody world." That's right kiddoes, I just called Atobe Adobe.

I win you lose.

"Hikari-san, are you alright?" My eyes sparkle as I catch the familiar voice. Ootori Choutarou, also known as 'Chou-chan'. The nicest, most angelic person in the entire world.

"Chou-chan! Here, carry this sack for me won't you? Think of it as training!" Gleefully, I hand the cause of all my problems –at the moment- to my beloved junior.

That's right, it's called taking advantage of someone's innocence before they lose it. Remember this, my friends. Tis' an important lesson for all to know. One can only succeed in life when they know this important rule of life –That the innocent people, the ones who are naïve, dense and slightly gullible, are always the best people who you can shove all your troubles onto. Be it a bulldozer, a lack of food and water, or even an angry elephant running after you.

"Alright, senpai! Wow… This thing is actually pretty heavy!" Choutarou exclaimed as he started to carry the sack over.

"Right-o! Just give that sack over to narcissistic jerk- I mean, Atobe-san! Ja-ne!" I waved goodbye before scurrying away while cackling evilly in my head.

Groaning, I tried to carry the numerous gifts in my arms. Was this supposed to be retribution for taking advantage of Choutarou's innocence just now? Just when I had been walking back, along the long hallways of Hyotei Academy, the bell rang. It pretty much signified my doom.

I think that those fan girls put trackers on me or something, because before I knew it, they were accosting me with gifts and wrapped up presents and store bought chocolate.

How come Atobe always gets all the good stuff? I think that I saw this packet of expensive Swiss chocolate in there. And champagne chocolate. I'm taking those two.

After all, Atobe never really minds when I take whatever I want. He keeps on telling me to be awed by his generosity while I savor those delicious treats.

Alright, I admit. Sitting next to Atobe Keigo has its benefits.

Mini-Drabble One- Sitting next to Atobe Keigo Isn't all **That** Bad


	2. Chapter 2 : A Lovely Valentines Day

A Lovely Valentines Day -The continuation

Disclaimer: Prince of Tennis DOES NOT belong to me. I only claim Yamamoto Hikari.

Danke! Have a nice time reading this!:)

A present to an extra-ordinary person. Whom I do not know personally.

You remember what I said about Atobe Keigo not be too bad? Snatch it up and chuck it into the nearest dustbin with great force.

You see, there is this shop in our school. It is a rather peculiar shop. An extremely peculiar shop. Run by the cheerleaders in Hyotei, it only operates on Valentines' Day and White Day. Another strange thing about it is that it only sells roses-A wide variety of them. Yellow roses, pure white roses, pretty pink roses, those horrid red roses which classic men give to their dates. Heck, they even sell blue roses!

It also has an automatic delivery service. In other words, you can't just pick it up, pay the cashier and give it to your crush while kneeling down. Nope. You tell the cashier that you want so- and so number of roses, write a card, and they will send it to the person.

The thing is, many people in Hyotei, especially the girls, like buying things from that shop. They especially love giving red ones. Of course, every time the shop opens, there will be a list of people who got the most number of roses. And at the top of that list, there is always that one irritating name, surrounded by equally as exasperating and tiring hearts and other fancy, romantic things. Well, things that are supposed to be romantic, I guess. Can you guess who that person is? His fanclub is made up of almost all of the six-hundred and thirty one female population in Hyotei. Heck, I think that half of the male population gives him roses too!

That's right kiddoes, it's the one and only, Atobe Keigo. Heir to the Atobe Corporation. Only child. Self-proclaimed king of Hyotei Middle School.

The list goes on.

As a result, when the cheerleaders give him the roses, there's always one trolley specially for him. Filled with red roses. Of course, there's always some white ones, or yellow ones, which are probably from his friends, but they're mostly red in colour.

Obviously, all of these roses are imported rom various countries in the world and probably cost millions of dollars.

The cheerleaders get most of their funds from this. Not that they need it, of course. Their overly-rich fathers and mothers can just buy it for them.

Most of the time. I'm not one to group and stereotype all rich people. Some of them have led extremely hard lives, and some of their parents are actually reasonable.

Not all wealthy people are snobs. That's the second rule in life. Don't misunderstand them. Quite a few of them do donate to charity. Of course, half of these people are doing it for publicity, but ignore that fact and focus on the good stuff. Don't be a pessimist. It's very unladylike.

Anyway, continuing. Being the seatmate of Atobe Keigo, it is rather hard on me. It always is.

In a nutshell, when the roses are poured onto his desk, they're poured onto mine as well.

"Damn you... Adobe!" With my fists clenched, my eye twitched furiously as the horrid red roses litter my table. Numerous flowers fall onto the floor, with a few falling onto me. Atobe Keigo, on the other hand, only smirks and flips his hair.

"Be awed by ore-sama's prowess, ahn!" Hearing his catchphrase, the overly obsessive fan girls faint, while the shyer ones just blush heavily. Sighing, I get up from my seat and pick the poor, mistreated roses from the marble floor. Yes, marble. Hyotei is an elite school for the rich and the talented. What did you expect? Normal, average tiled floors.

Let me tell you this, Hyotei, is, was and will never be simply just average. It's taboo to be just ordinary here. Teachers dislike those who are mediocre. Parents disapprove of those who are unexceptional. Pupils absolutely despise and detest those who are unexciting, and above all, utterly boring. You want to survive here? Be different from the normal student. Don't be what they believe to be 'Second-rate'.

You can't survive in the real world like that, they say.

Alright, enough of the heavy stuff. It's time, to tell the real story.

Of roses, presents, and just a little bit of tennis. After all, the only thing, that can sidetrack our protagonist from Atobe, is tennis.

How boring.

"Special Early Bird Delivery! Recipient: Atobe Keigo," These were always part of the stream of words which came out of the delivery cheerleader's mouth. She was the head cheerleader, given the 'special' task of delivering to Atobe Keigo.

Of course, since there were so many fans, there were also many roses.

One table could only take about a quarter of those.

In other words, my table had to be utilised. The floor, too. And thus, they were soon burdened by the heavy weight of the many flowers adorning them.

Too bad for us I guess.

Due to Atobe's pride, he never, ever bends over to pick the roses up. Thus, I act as a cleaner for 15 minutes.

I don't even know why I never become a hunchback from doing this.

Leaning over, I scoop up the roses with both of my hands tiredly. Atobe, as usual, only picks up the roses from the desks.

Atobe Keigo may be a narcissistic jerk, but he was raised to be a gentleman.

Somewhat.

"So, what did you get for Ore-sama, Hikari?" He asks.

"Don't call me that, Atobe. Why do you even assume that I got you a present?"

"Ahn~ You didn't deny it, so you obviously did get me one. As for why, Ore-sama is just that good. You don't need to ask, commoner."

Frustrated, I chuck the roses that I picked up into his bag. Which was specially made for carrying all the stupid roses.

I did get Atobe a present though. The process involved my mum yelling at me, and me making chocolate which tasted like coffee.

Because Atobe hated coffee.

The gift was wrapped neatly and stuffed into a deep, dark corner of my bag, hidden away from everyone's eyes.

That kind of sounds like Rapunzel minus the tower and everything.

"Of course, since you're on a scholarship and everything, Ore-sama doesn't expect you to give me something expensive," He continued.

My eyes twitched. He didn't have to make it sound like I was some poor beggar living in the streets! I'm from a normal family, for heaven's sakes! Unlike him.

Trust me, Cinderella ruined the lives of all poor girls around.

"Tch, take it. Mind you, it's coffee-flavoured." Taking the gift from my bag, I tossed it towards him.

He wrinkled his nose in distaste.

"Coffee? I thought you knew Ore-sama better than that."

"I'm not sorry, I swear."

THIRD PERSON POV

Atobe Keigo peered curiously at the chocolates which the commoner had given him.

Obviously, she did it out of spite.

Still, he was rather curious as to what they tasted like.

Hesitantly, he popped one into his mouth and started to chew.

It tasted like a mix of espresso and dark chocolate, rather bitter.

'Hmm... Perhaps Yamamoto isn't that bad of a chef...' He smirked as he pooped another one into his mouth.

Perhaps, just perhaps, he wouldn't hate coffee as much now.

A/N

Hi guys! I know that I haven't been active lately, but here's this little one shot for you guys. And yes, I know that there hasn't been any romance. Honestly, I really need to read the Idiots Guide for Writing Romance, because I suck at it so bad.

Over and Out,

ACIS (It stands for A City in Switzerland. I made it up myself:))


	3. Part II: Extraordinary Acts of Hilarity

Part II : Extraordinary Acts of Hilarity

TO THE REVIWERS: READ THE A/N THE END. :)

Classical music echoed all around me. I could hear the school band playing. Cymbals clashing. A ridiculously underdressed group of cheerleaders doing their cheers. A younger girl, probably a First Year, declaring her absolute love for Oshitari Yuushi.

And most of all, I could hear my heart pounding.

How could I even hear so many things, you ask?

Because I was at the one place which I hated - The centre of the stage. Technically, I hate anything about being in the centre, so it isn't exactly surprising.

How, just how had it come to this anyway?

Well, it started a week ago. It had been a very, very long week.

Yet again, I heard something. The words that my very being despised for three entire years in Hyotei.

"Alright, class! What would you like to do for this year's Mid-Autumn Festival! I'm sure that all of you must've already known about it, from your eager expressions! That just shows how knowledgeable you are about our traditions!"

Bull, complete bull. Most of the students had actually turned their heads towards the posters advertising the festival, which we're put up a few days before.

" Of course, like last year, you guys can pick your theme for your booth! Remember, it has to be beneficial to the students! Since you youths deserve to have some fun now and then, I'm going to leave all the preparations to you! Have fun! Ja ne," After saying that, she turned tail and walked straight out of the classroom.

Teachers. Teachers teaching at Hyotei, especially. They're always looking for ways to get out of teaching the students. Why do they even get their pay, anyway?

Let the hell, begin.

~~~~~~~~- Time Skip ~~

Atobe. Board. Atobe. Board.

My eyes were kind of tired from looking from Atobe to the board again and again, but everyone was doing that. Atobe, being an Atobe, of course, decided the theme for our class. He decided a different one every year, and his ideas were unsurprisingly good... and well, different. Of course, he claims that the class which he's in cannot be too 'mainstream', so we don't exactly do things like cafés or haunted houses. Those are pretty boring, anyway.

In Year 1, I was in the same class as him. For that year, God was kind to me and let me sit far away from him, whereas some giggling fan girl took the seat. That year, he organised a mini-carnival. Somehow, he managed to convince the principal to let our class use the school fields.

In Year 2, I was still in the same class as him. I had now resigned myself to this fate as Hyotei, for some strange reason, put the more intelligent students all in the same class. As a scholarship student, or simply 'social welfare classed student', I had to keep my grades in the Top 5 to survive. Atobe, being the near-perfect being that he was, always took the first place in the school grade rankings. That year, I sat in front of him, so we always had to do group projects with each other. That was when my career as a mailman started. Mail...woman. Whatever. He organised a basketball competition. A BASKETBALL COMPETITION WHICH WE WERE EXPECTED TO PARTICIPATE IN. As usual, I was made to be the referee, seeing as I had no athletic talent whatsoever.

This year, Year 3, I'm still in the same class as him, and I sit right next to him. I'm still a mailman, still second place every time, and still annoyed by his dramatic antics. Hooray.

" Ore-sama orders that we do a play! After all, this year is Ore-sama's last year in Hyotei Middle School, thus we must engrave our names into the younger students' minds!"

What? Play? As in, Musical-Play kind of play? Is he crazy? I don't want to act! Oh wait, props. Lighting director. Yeah, I can just volunteer for those jobs.

"Ore-sama commands Yamamoto to be the scriptwriter AND the narrator!"

What?

"Now look here, Atobe. Only one job per student, not any more. Anyway, I don't want to be the narrator." I protested.

" Actually, you do. We shall be acting out Othello."

"That takes up too much time, Ahobe."

"What did you call Ore-sama?"

"Ahobe, Atobe. Anyway, why don't we just do a fairy-tale or something? It's shorter, and easier. And don't think I haven't forgotten about the Narrator thing, Atobe!"

"Fine, we shall perform a fairy tale. Any suggestions?"

He completely ignored the latter part of my sentence, the little bastard. I was expecting that I would be a scriptwriter, seeing as how the only subject that I could beat him in is English. Oh, and the fact that he saw my notebook filled with all my 'creative' doodles on it.

What? Greek is a boring subject!

It's not as if I need, Greek, anyway. It's just compulsory in Hyotei. Plus, it drags my total mark down.

"Ooh! Can we do Cinderella, Atobe-sama? Can we?" A hopeful fan girl asked. Psh, probably just wants to get a chance to talk to Atobe.

"Very well, Ore-sama expects to be cast as the Prince, Yamamoto."

Dammit.

-OoOo-

Day One-

"Alright, here's the casting." I handed out the sheets of paper to my classmates.

Cinderella: Oshitari Yūshi

The Prince: Atobe Keigo

Stepmother: Mukahi Gakuto

Evil Stepsister: Soen Yuki

Second Evil Stepsister: Kinaba Hana

Fairy Godmother: Akutagawa Jirou

Prince's Friend: Shishido Ryou

Narrator: Yamamoto Hikari

That's right, I was forced to become the Narrator.

Yeah, I have a pretty weak will.

Or maybe it was just my subconscious telling me to.

P.S. I named my subconscious, aka the Voice in My Head, Lucy.

-OoOo-

"Alright guys, the rest of you have to take up other roles. I've put up the list of roles up there, and the people whom I would prefer to put in those roles. However, if two people want the same role, you guys can just go fight over it. I don't really care if one of you gets sent to the ER." Uncaringly, I pointed to the piece of paper which was stuck to the notice board at the back.

" As for the characters, come over here. Now. I have ONE week to do this shit with you, so you'd better listen." This time, I was pretty stern. One week wasn't enough, but I had no choice. The two girls were less fan-girly than the other choices I had for the roles, which was why I had chosen them. As for the gender bend? I was just having fun.

"Here. All of you take this." I thrusted out 8 scripts, keeping one for myself.

" Oh and by the way, Oshitari, you can stop staring at me like that. It isn't going to change my deduction for you to be the main character." I glared at him.

"You guys have to memorise the script perfectly, understand? PERFECTLY. I expect you to do this by tomorrow, since we're going to have a trial run tomorrow. No excuses allowed."

Gakuto opened his mouth.

"And yes, Mukahi. I know you still have tennis. I guess there's no time for video games for you today."

-OoOo-

SECOND DAY

" CUT! HANA! MORE EVIL-NESS THERE! IF I DONT SEE ANY IMPROVEMENT YOU GET NO LUNCH."

"Yamamoto-san's scary when she's angry. Really scary," Gakuto muttered.

"MUKAHI! If you have enough time to stop and chatter, why don't you start memorising your bloody script you bloody f***er."

"Eeek! She swore! Yes, of course right away, ma'm."

"Oshitari! Put some heart into it! I want a meaningful performance here, you moron!"

"Now now, don't be so impatient, Hikari-chan."

"Shut up and don't call me by my first name."

"Jirou! Stop sleeping and stand up for a moment! All you need to do is introduce yourself, say two lines, and wave that stick around!"

"Snore... Wha...?"

I sighed.

"Forget it."

"Atobe! Stop staring at yourself in the mirror and get ready! You're the Prince, you bloody idiot! Not some princess!"

"Why, Yamamoto, of course Ore-sama knows what gender he is. Unlike you. In fact..."

I tuned him out.

Shishido was busy reading his lines.

"Continue wig whatever you're doing Ryou."

He nodded silently.

-OoOo-

THIRD DAY

" That's IT! I give up! I'm re-doing the bloody script!"

With a loud sound, the piece of paper was torn into tiny little pieces. Goodbye, and rest in peace, little script. You are no longer needed in the real world.

"Oi! Ore-sama demands to know what you're doing, Yamamoto!"

"I'm re-doing the script. Their personalities are just too different from the characters which they're playing. In other words, we'll be doing a parody of sorts, you know?"

Atobe glared at me before curtly nodding his head.

-OoOo-

FOURTH DAY - Three Days Before The Performance

"Yamamoto-San! We've got the materials ready! As per your request, we made the dress dark blue. The rest were all made in colours which we thought would suit the characters," Shina exclaimed.

Kang Shina, originating from Seoul, South Korea. Her mother is a famous fashion designer and the founder of the brand 'Pearl'. She was my preferred choice for the role of Clothes Designer and Stylist.

"Thanks," I snickered when I saw the frilly dresses. Only Atobe and Shishido had proper suits.

"Oi! Come over here, you guys, your costumes are ready!" I yelled. Gakuto visibly paled, whereas Oshitari was smiling at me in a way that gave me goosebumps.

Oh well, I'm the scriptwriter, director and narrator. I can do whatever I want.

-OoOo-

DAY 5

It was a dry rehearsal. All in all, it wasn't that bad.

For once, Jirou actually woke up on time, said his lines sleepily, before collapsing on the stage. In the end, we had no choice but to drag him backstage.

Yeah, it was pretty good.

-OoOo-

Day 6

I had to tell at the lighting directors AGAIN. They were too busy focusing the light on Atobe to do their jobs properly.

The props were done by Yamamoto Takeshi, who is, by the way, not my relative. We just have the same last names. Everyone just calls him Takeshi in order not to confuse us.

He was a good artist.

-OoOo-

DAY 7 - THE DAY OF THE PERFORMANCE

Orange leaves were blown all around by the strong winds. The birds were chirping, and the sun was out.

Hyotei Academy was bustling busily. Students were handing out fliers and other stuff, and another class did a mini-festival.

I don't even want to know what's wrong with them.

Class 3A, my class, was situated in the Auditorium, which Atobe managed to reserve for us.

For once, I'm thankful. I don't exactly want to construct a makeshift stage in our classroom. Nobody does.

Right now? I'm panicking.

"ALRIGHT! Since this is a parody, if you guys forget your lines, just say whatever you want. I repeat, whatever you want. Shishido, I want you to swear. Yes, swear. As in, say expletives. Yeah. AND DONT QUESTION MY DESICIONS."

-OoOo-

"What are you doing, you idiot? -"

In the middle of yelling at some poor boy, I felt someone tug me away gently.

"Oi, Yamamoto. Calm down."

It was Atobe.

"Calm down? Calm down?! I'm having a freaking pani-"

I was cut off by him.

"Everything's going to turn out fine, you idiot. We've prepared so many things, memorised our lines, worked hard. It's not as though it can't be fine, after all. It will be fabulous! After all, I am the one acting."

Yet again, Atobe's self-assurance leaves me in awe.

-OoOo-

A/N-

Hey guys! Haha, I feel like I'm updating once a month. Exams are over, though.

If you find the end of this halter really rushed, I am so sorry. I'm in the airport writing this right now, and I'll be boarding the plane soon.

So, for reviews!

Yes, I feel like replying the reviews this time.

Dazzling59:

Hi! Thanks for reviewing again. Haha, Hikari's somewhat apathetic about everything, isn't she? Pretty different from Atobe's preferred type, which is Strong-willed girls.

roe2:

Well, Hikari doesn't exactly hate Atobe. It's more like she begrudgingly respects him, but doesn't exactly like him in the way his fan girls do. In a nutshell, all I can say is that their relationship is... complicated.

Yeah, complicated. The HP references? I just so happened to read a HP fanfiction before writing Chapter 1:)

GlaresThatKill:

Dammit, I knew that it sounded like something weird. Here's the next chapter!

The Mysterious Mr. Anonymous:

Haha, thanks!:)

I'm off to London~ Again.

And Rome, which is pretty new to me!:D


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